


Lose Yourself

by icedcovers



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, First Time, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, theyre in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedcovers/pseuds/icedcovers
Summary: If no one's going to write Proto Arthur and Lancelot making sweet love to each other then I'll do it god damn it.





	Lose Yourself

Arthur wanted. Perhaps he was not the best at saying it, for what grace was there in a king who moved to demand things of others for his own gain? Was what was done not to be for the state instead? A romantic idea, perhaps. Arthur had tempered himself into not wanting, or not expressing those wants. He wanted Lancelot, however, and felt no inclination to hide it. 

 

“Just… relax.” There was something charming about Lancelot in his current condition (face flushed, unable to meet the king’s eyes). Arthur’s gaze softened, amusement curling at his lips. He’d never been so bold before, had never even contemplated any sort of amorous encounter that the Bible had not ordained. He supposed, however, that ideas could change. God above knew that Arthur had needed to acclimate to such change. 

 

He was on his knees before Lancelot, one hand on his leg while the other rested at the base of his ankle. Lancelot sat at the edge of the bed. They were both bare, as Arthur had insisted upon it. Lancelot did so much for him that Arthur thought it only appropriate to return the favor. A king on his knees was a sight, and contrary to all of what others would have suggested, yet Arthur didn’t mind. If it was for Lancelot, he would do more than get on his knees.

 

A hand began to massage his leg, carefully, in slow, thoughtful circles. Arthur’s voice was low as he spoke, eyes studying Lancelot with contemplation. It was a side of him most would have thought him incapable of, yet there was something about Lancelot that set him aflame, that sent him towards a precipice of new discovery. “If you’re thinking, then you don’t need to. I’d actually be more interested in quieting your thoughts.” A soft laugh, hands gingerly pushing Lancelot’s legs apart. Arthur waited a moment, studying the knight’s face before continuing. Once assured that Lancelot would not close his legs in shame, he set his chin atop the bed, looking at him almost demurely through blond lashes.

 

A glance, Lancelot looked away quickly soon after. Arthur hadn’t expected more from him, though it was endearing.

 

Lips brushed against his knight’s inner thigh, carefully mouthing along before sinking his teeth into the flesh. Arthur could hear a soft groan from above, stifled. “I love you.” It was the first glimpse of his intentions showing at last. Carnality was pleasure in itself, yet Arthur wished for Lancelot to understand just how much he loved him. Lips moved to his other thigh, more bite marks marring his flesh. The hickeys were with a reverence, a claiming. Arthur was bad at wanting things, perhaps he had taken it from himself the moment his crown had touched his head. With Lancelot, however, he wished for him to know how wanted he was. Perhaps Arthur hadn’t been the best at holding onto things, in speaking the depths of his appreciation, but he did not want a repeat of such past mistakes.

 

It was not long until Arthur’s tongue found itself at the base of Lancelot’s member. Slow, experimental. He had never done something like this before, though had long absolved to make his best attempt with Lancelot. Arthur moved further, lips experimentally pressing against the head, his fingers wrapping around the base. 

 

A hiss:  _ “My king.” _

 

_ “Arthur.” _ A correction, playful, hot breath against the most sensitive part of Lancelot. He was doing it on purpose, fingers slowly trailing up the length of him. “That is my name, is it not?” A squeeze before his mouth closed over the head, slick and warm.

 

A louder groan from Lancelot, smothered, yet enough to satisfy Arthur.

 

It took a moment for him to acclimate to the weight atop his tongue. In truth, there hadn’t been many places for Arthur to learn the technique, or to even read of it. Should he have ever encountered such a novel, perhaps he would have been too frightened to read it properly. Improvisation wasn’t much of a plan, though it was the best Arthur had. An experimental suck, a sharp exhale from Lancelot. More was taken into the king’s mouth. It wasn’t the most pleasant sensation, though when he peered up at Lancelot, it seemed to be doing something for the knight, so Arthur insisted. His head began to move slowly, though paused, grabbing Lancelot by the wrist, soon settling his hand atop his own head. Lancelot looked at him dubiously, and Arthur took that opportunity to swallow more and nod. 

 

Arthur thought there to be no sound more divine than Lancelot’s subsequent moan.

 

Perhaps he was pushing his limits the more he took of him, though with the manner in which he bobbed his head and dug his nails into Lancelot’s thighs, it seemed enough. Arthur’s gaze never wavered from Lancelot’s face, even if the knight held no intentions of looking at him. Fingers tightened in Arthur’s hair, and he found himself liking the sensation. He looked at Lancelot with adoration beyond the teasing.  _ Look at me, _ Arthur thought, _ I would never do this for anyone else _ .

 

He had needed to stop himself, the strain of it all reaching him. Of course, it was only natural, he was inexperienced, though Arthur was still mildly frustrated. Such ebbed away however, when he regarded Lancelot, face flushed, chest heaving. He was beautiful. Lancelot had always been beautiful, he had always been captivating, and he looked better than anything Arthur had ever seen before within that moment. 

Arthur rose from his knees, rather unsteadied, for the floor had not been kind, though he leaned over Lancelot soon enough. A hand pressed against his chest, pushing him down, leaving the king leaning over him. There was an intensity within an oceanic gaze, a burning want. He too needed satisfaction, though couldn’t even begin to contemplate it. Though he did throb at the sight of Lancelot under him. Was there anything better? He should think not. 

Even despite the air between them, Arthur still found it in himself to hold Lance’s cheek in one hand. Still, he refused to meet his eyes. “It’s better if you look,” Arthur’s voice was hoarse from his last excursion. He liked the sound, however, if only as a reminder that he was willing to take any part of Lancelot. The good, the bad, the undefinable; Arthur loved him.

 

Elbows rested on either side of Lancelot, chests pressing together lazily, his fully weight not quite on top of him. Arthur had promised an event, and refused to to go any further until Lancelot realized the depths of his devotion. He began to kiss along his neck, leaving similar marks as he had upon Lancelot’s thighs. Arthur reached one of his hands down in between them, pushing their lengths together as he began to stroke slowly, calmly, as if to take the edge off. He seemed confident, though in truth, his heart was hammering within his chest. He was nervous and novels of romance hadn’t quite chronicled the process between two men, Arthur had needed to learn that from others sources he wished not to consider.

 

“I love you, I love you…” murmured into Lancelot’s neck like a promise. “You’re everything to me…” 

 

Lancelot did not reply, though he imagined it was rather hard to. Lancelot had lived his life thinking Arthur would never love him. But he had. He always had. It had simply taken him time to realize it. “I am lucky to have you.” A squeeze from his occupied hand, a mutual groan shared. Arthur loved the sound of Lancelot’s heavy breathing, loved the way his eyes screwed shut. “You are all of my desires placed into one person.”

 

Arthur sat upright to where he was on his lap. Lancelot’s eyes opened hazily, and Arthur met his gaze, licking off the pre-cum from his hand from his prior ministrations. Lancelot shut his eyes again, and Arthur laughed.

 

“I like that side of you. I like every side of you.”

 

Arthur had no intentions of receiving, he liked the sight of Lancelot under him much better, though he was so cruel as to grind his hips back into Lancelot. The knight stiffened under him, hips tentatively rolling back in return, as if seeing such was alright. “I love you so much.” It was becoming a mantra. “You look beautiful right now, Lance.”

“I’m not…” a hazy reply. They were both euphoric, Arthur was simply coherent out of a determination to prove his love.

 

Arthur grabbed Lancelot’s hand once more, nuzzling into his palm briefly before kissing each of his fingers. “You are. It’s alright if you don’t believe me. That’s why we’re here. I want to show you.”

 

“My king…”

 

_ “Arthur.” _ He nipped a finger, as if to scold him, still smiling all the while. “I can be your king once these doors open. But in this privacy? I am ‘Arthur’, and I am your lover.”  

 

Lancelot nodded his head, though seemed unable to bring himself to say Arthur’s name. 

 

Arthur held his hand thoughtfully for another moment, before settling it atop his waist. “You can touch me,” he said then, “I am yours as you are mine. My body is yours to roam in return.” Arthur leaned forward, brushing their lips together in a chaste kiss, gentle and sweet. It wasn’t enough to satisfy him,  not with a growing need for Lancelot. He pressed in for another kiss. Lancelot parted his lips invitingly, and Arthur brushed their tongues together, the heat within his own stomach becoming all the more insistent. Lancelot placed his other hand on Arthur’s hip and the king felt a mounting satisfaction. He groaned invitingly when Lancelot squeezed his waist. It was encouragement, as if to say:  _ yes, keep doing that, it’s what I want from you. What I’ve always wanted. _

 

Their kiss was messy, filled with a growing desperation, breaths coming out in harsh, warm puffs. They grinded more insistently against one another, Arthur letting out several groans into Lancelot’s mouth. “I want you,” he panted, “Lancelot, I love you so much.” 

 

“I love you too,” Lancelot replied with just as much fervor. 

 

“I want to…” Arthur blushed for once, his armor parting to reveal his own concerns. “If you would… permit it that is I would hate to… impose and--”

 

“You can do it.”

 

Arthur’s face flushed a bright scarlet, and he quickly disentangled himself from Lancelot, another throb of arousal greeting him with discomfort. Right. He had considered such an outcome. Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he? He had planned for this, had paced around his room for this, had envisioned this in private moments in the bath. Arthur touched his own face as he moved towards the drawer, pulling open one of the handles with a loud sound. Lancelot looked at him curiously, smiling. “We don’t have to,” he said reassuringly.

 

“But I  _ want _ to.” Arthur fumbled around the drawer until he found a small, glass phial. This had been a vital step, so he had heard. Arthur flushed in memory at the advice given before pushing the door shut. “No, it’s alright, Lancelot I only… well, I’d like it to be pleasant for you, if you’d forgive my inexperience and--”

 

“I’m not experienced either, my king. You place too great of a burden upon yourself.”

 

Arthur exhaled in relief. Lancelot had always been wonderful at reassuring him. He settled atop the bed once more soon enough, uncorking the vial with his teeth. Lance blushed at such a gesture, and Arthur felt pleased. Past advice rang within his ears as he poured some of the liquid atop his fingers, rubbing them together in a valiant effort to warm it. “This is going to go…”

 

Lancelot smiled, “I’m aware.”

 

Arthur snorted, and perhaps both of them laughed quietly. “And you’re alright with it?”

 

“If it’s what my king desires.”

 

“I’m not certain about your king, I don’t imagine he would be trying something like this, but it’s what _ Arthur  _ wants.”

 

A slick finger prodded Lancelot’s entrance, slowly pushing in. Lancelot hissed, and Arthur stilled immediately. “Is it… alright?”

 

Lancelot’s eyes were shut once more and he nodded his head slowly. “Yes… keep going.”

 

“If you’re uncomfortable or it hurts, please let me now.”

 

He nodded his acquiescence. Arthur exhaled, albeit nervously. Slowly, he pressed his finger in further past resistance, and merely waited for a moment. Lancelot needed to acclimate, and he had no intentions of hurting him. “I-I’m alright.”

 

Arthur proceeded with a second finger, just as slowly, just as carefully, resting once more once he was down to the second knuckle. “Is it painful?”

 

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

 

“That does little to reassure me.”

 

Lancelot let out a chuckle and Arthur found himself grinning alongside him. He waited a bit more for Lancelot to accustom himself to the feeling before slowly fingering his scissors apart to stretch him. Lancelot gulped though did not stop him. Arthur carefully studied his reactions, willing to cease at any moment. Sweat beaded at his forehead, heart pounding. So far, nothing disastrous had transpired, or, at least, not enough to halt what they were doing. A third finger slid in alongside the other too and Lancelot hissed at the burn. It seemed, however, matters were faring better, Arthur carefully moving his fingers to stretch him better. “Should I move?”

 

“You can try.”

 

Arthur began to move his fingers in and out slowly, never quite removing them. “You look… lovely like this. You’re doing so well, Lance, honestly.” His companion groaned, prompting a warm smile. “You’re especially beautiful when you make noises such as that.”

 

Lancelot gripped the sheets, soon rolling his hips down to meet Arthur’s fingers. His breaths were ragged, a slow enjoyment finally beginning to settle in after long moments of patience. Arthur pressed his fingers in further, grinding them against his walls. Lancelot moaned louder than Arthur had heard, which encouraged him. 

 

“Should I…” fingers began to move out, as if to indicate his next inclination. 

 

Lancelot swallowed thickly and nodded, “g-go ahead.”

 

There was simply something in the manner with which Lancelot’s back had arched off the bed that stirred something further within Arthur. He pulled his fingers out and laughed.

 

_ “Fuck.” _

 

Lancelot seemed startled by the profanity, so rarely heard from the king’s lips. “Are you…?”

 

“Yes, I’m fine you are… captivating…” Arthur slicked some of the oil onto his own length, carefully positioning himself over Lancelot. “My heart is racing, actually. Place your hand on my chest.” Lancelot did so, and Arthur took a moment to hold his hand there. “I am… uncertain if you can feel its pace yet it is wild. All by your doing.”

 

Lancelot’s eyes widened, and Arthur could not help but smile at him reverence. He relinquished Lancelot’s hands if only to pry his thighs apart further. Arthur positioned himself at his entrance and began to push in slowly. “If if it hurts, or you want me to stop, then tell me.”

 

The knight’s jaw locked, and he nodded his head, seemingly attempting to steel himself. Arthur moved forward slowly, pausing whenever Lancelot grunted. In truth, the heat enveloping him was dizzying. Once settled, he dared not move, needing his own time to get used to the feeling of Lancelot around him. He was terrified that should he have moved, he would have been finished right then and there. His mouth felt dry, and he grabbed one of Lancelot’s hands to hold, lacing their fingers together. It was for comfort, reassurance, a newly common gesture between them.

 

He studied Lancelot, “c-can I move?”

 

“Please do,” Lancelot exhaled. “My king.”

 

_ “Arthur.” _

 

Regardless, he began to roll his hips slowly, and could not suppress his own groan of pleasure at the sensation. Arthur’s jaw fell slack for a moment, just as bothered as Lancelot. Slowly, they began to work up a proper pace, Arthur thrusting in steadily. It seemed his endurance and stamina had finally come to aid him. He leaned over Lancelot, pressing their lips together as he pistoned his hips further with enthusiasm. The king waited for any sign of resistance, for any signal that he might need to slow his pace, yet Lancelot wrapped his legs around his waist, slowly losing himself as arms snaked around Arthur’s neck. 

 

He could feel nails digging into his back, which only encouraged him to move faster. Arthur began to babble against his lips, losing himself in the sensation of being within Lancelot, of them being together in a manner that they had only dreamed.

 

I love you, I love you, I love you. It was always you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It was always you.

 

Arthur could not tell if such mantras were within his thoughts, or spoken aloud, but he could hear an “I love you” from Lancelot, which only drove him further. It was with a greater force that he pushed into the knight and Arthur knew not where he touched, though something had stirred within Lancelot, a loud moan tearing from his throat.

 

_ “Arthur!” _

 

It seemed he had tipped Lancelot over the edge, and to hear his name called out so desperately, so lovingly, it was enough to send Arthur over the edge as well.

 

His vision seemed unsteadied for a moment, Arthur’s breaths escaping him just as unsteadily. It was only with a vague presence of mind that he pulled out of Lancelot. The king laid back down onto the bed, drawing Lancelot to his chest, fingers threading through his hair lovingly. 

 

Neither spoke for a moment, merely basking in the other’s warmth and presence. Arthur shut his eyes, attempting to even his breathing. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“But, I truly do love you.”

 

“As I do you.”

 

Arthur opened his eyes to the sight of Lancelot, just as shaken as he felt. “Was it alright for you?”

 

“It was more than alright, my king.”

 

“You called me ‘Arthur’ before you came.”

 

Lancelot smiled sheepishly, “I lost myself.”

 

“Good,” Arthur laughed, kissing his forehead, “it was what I wanted from you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Kat for the beta reading and here you go Shinya here's our kids.


End file.
